This is what it’s like to be press at Comic-Con. It’s not that you don’t feel like an ass, when you walk past a mile-long line to get into a big screening, fans who have sweated and ground out the hours it took to have a reasonable shot at a reasonable seat. You wave your flimsy little purple construction-paper pass, go in the side door, step behind the stupid purple curtain, where a studio dude waves you through. You walk past the crap seats up to the front, where there’s a chair with a green ‘reserved’ cover. You sit. You feel like a colossal ass. But not so big of an ass that you don’t do it.